


we're somewhere between

by andnowforyaya



Series: tesselate [2]
Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Dom/sub Undertones, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, M/M, Medication, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Violence, i don't know how this happened but suddenly this is a series okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 07:43:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1258408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I thought you were coming in the morning," Youngjae grits, unable to process what he's seeing.</p><p>Himchan exhales, slow and calm. "Relax," he almost sings. "I can smell your jealousy. Didn't Daehyun tell you anything about us?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're somewhere between

A series of sharp knocks on his door, like a hammer driving a nail into the ground.

It's the middle of the night and Youngjae startles awake when Daehyun flinches next to him, springs in the mattress creaking.

"What is it?" Youngjae whispers, turning his face on the pillow to him as Daehyun lies very, very still.

Daehyun's eyes flash amber but do not change. He sighs and says, "It's safe. Mostly."

"Mostly?" Youngjae repeats, eyes widening.

"Just go answer it," Daehyun mutters, burying his face into Youngjae's pillow. He groans.

Youngjae hesitates, wary, but for the past week Daehyun has been hyper-vigilant about strangers and friends alike, refusing to let Youngjae answer his own door for the fear that the pizza delivery guy could be in league with the hunters they had faced in the alley. 

Daehyun is still healing; the bullet that bit into his side was silver, and it poisoned his insides before he could dig it out, and it will leave a small, star-shaped scar at the tapered point of his waist.

Youngjae stretches like a cat before slinking out of bed, slipping on a pair of pajama pants for decency and attempting to flatten his hair with his hands on his short walk to the front door. He pulls on Daehyun's leather jacket to cover himself when he's there, and opens the door slowly, keeping the chain lock in place.

"Hello?"

The man standing at his door boasts sharp, chiseled cheekbones and jet black hair, his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. He's wearing almost all black, a leather jacket similar to Daehyun's, and carrying a small bag. When he smiles, his teeth glint. "Are you the one who's been fucking Daehyun?" he asks, smooth and low and gravelly.

"Himchan," Youngjae guesses.

Himchan smiles even wider. "And you're smart, too. Now, let me in."

Youngjae closes the door in his face, takes a deep breath, and slides the chain lock out of place. When he opens the door again, Himchan strides through the threshold and pauses before crossing into the common area, sniffing theatrically.

"Come on in," Youngjae announces belatedly, scowling a bit as he watches Himchan turn a slow circle.

Himchan grins, one sharp tooth catching the light of the moon peaking through the curtains over Youngjae's windows. "Oh? It seems like  _Daehyun's_ been the one fucking  _you_? Interesting."

Youngjae flushes, deep and immediate, his cheeks flaming.

Himchan's laugh is loud and uninhibited, and Daehyun's voice answers him. "Leave him alone, you ass."

"Dae-baby," Himchan greets, taking off his sunglasses and flinging his arms wide. His eyes flash gold. "I honestly didn't know you had it in you."

Daehyun grunts, arms crossed over his bare chest and hip propped against the door frame of Youngjae's bedroom, boxers he's just pulled on slung low on his waist. He chews on his bottom lip, head ducked, as he considers Himchan's open arms, shooting Youngjae an apologetic glance from underneath black fringe. Slowly, he shuffles forward, until his brother wraps him up in a tight hug, pressing Daehyun's head to his chest and rocking him.

As Youngjae watches, jaw clenching in an attempt to keep a straight face, Daehyun licks a stripe up the column of Himchan's throat, and buries his head underneath the sharp line of Himchan's jaw.

Himchan's eyes catch Youngjae's over the top of Daehyun's head, and he crooks his lips in an impish grin as Youngjae glares, as Youngjae hugs himself tighter and walks over to the couch. "He does this to you, too, huh?" Himchan murmurs, eyes following Youngjae.

Daehyun growls. "God, you're such a dick," he says to Himchan's neck, voice muffled, even as Himchan is carding his fingers through Daehyun's hair, Daehyun's body slowly molding to fit against the older's.

"I thought you were coming in the morning," Youngjae grits, unable to process what he's seeing.

Himchan exhales, slow and calm. "Relax," he almost sings. "I can  _smell_  your jealousy. Didn't Daehyun tell you anything about us?"

"Just that you're his control-freak brother," Youngjae mutters. He sits down heavily on the couch.

Daehyun separates himself from Himchan and immediately folds himself into the space by Youngjae, almost pawing at the leather jacket still around his shoulders as he nuzzles underneath Youngjae's arms until Youngjae relents and puts that arm around Daehyun. He kisses the spot behind Youngjae's ear that he seems to like so much and stays there, just breathing, as Himchan sprawls on his other side, knees spaced far apart.

"Is that what he's saying?" He glares at the back of Daehyun's head. "Dae, why don't you tell him what I really am to you."

Youngjae narrows his eyes. Himchan seems domineering and outright bully-ish, and he isn't making the best first impression. He curls his arm around Daehyun tighter in reassurance. Daehyun swallows, the sound small against Youngjae.

"Daehyun," Himchan says again, and his voice has changed, has grown deeper and fuller, the kind of voice that would echo anywhere.

Daehyun whispers, "He's my alpha," and Youngjae shivers at his breath ghosting the little hairs at the back of his neck.

But then Youngjae laughs - the stupid, huffing laughter that he's been trying to get rid of for years - and Daehyun pulls back, furrowing his brow and chewing on his bottom lip, hurt.

"What?" Youngjae gasps. "I mean, that stuff's not real, right?"

He thinks about all of the material out there on werewolves, in the media and in legends and pop culture. If anything, Himchan's smile only seems to grow, but there is a wicked curve to it. Youngjae swallows past the lump suddenly forming in his throat.

"Youngjae," Daehyun says in a thin voice. "I'm a  _werewolf,_ " like that should explain everything.

Past him, Youngjae sees Himchan's smile falter, sees a shutter fall over his eyes as considers them both, but then he blinks and it's gone. 

Himchan stretches an arm over the back of the couch. He sneers, "I knew he wouldn't get it," and Daehyun turns quickly, glaring, but his glare falls short as he drops his eyes to the cushions.

"I just didn't tell him because it's - weird. It's weird, okay?"

"It's not  _weird_ ," Himchan growls, immediately sitting up straight and taking Daehyun's chin in one hand, forcing his eyes up. 

Youngjae gasps, heart jumping.

"It's  _pack_  and it keeps you safe," Himchan continues. "You think this would have happened if you had just come to us like we agreed? When I asked you to?"

Daehyun whimpers. 

Youngjae wonders if 'this' refers to the injuries Daehyun's sustained or to Youngjae himself. He intervenes, gently, pulling Daehyun closer to him and away from Himchan's steely grip. "Hey,  _hey_. It's fine. I don't - I don't think it's weird, or anything. I could understand if you'd just  _explain_  it to me. But it's three in the morning and, honestly, I'd rather talk about this after a couple more hours of sleep, right?"

Himchan exhales out of his nose, sharp and quick, but lets Daehyun go, nodding. "So where am I sleeping," he says more than asks.

.

Himchan gets the bed.

Youngjae glowers at the ceiling of his living room with Daehyun in his arms, with Daehyun placing tiny kisses under his ears and over his nose. 

"I'm sorry," Daehyun whispers, biting at the bone of Youngjae's jaw.

Youngjae squeezes his arms tighter around him, sighing. "It's all right. I'm getting it, okay? Weird alpha shit."

Daehyun laughs against his throat, makes a pleased, humming sound that curls Youngjae's toes.

.

He's not really sure what the two wolves get up to when he's out of the apartment working or attending classes or running errands. He comes home and sometimes Himchan is there, sometimes not, but Daehyun always seems a little down when he gets back, moody and petulant and restless, energy thrumming at his fingertips and the hairs on his arms standing on end.

Youngjae's pillow stays in the living room, and is soon joined by another. The blanket on Youngjae's bed remains bunched up in the cushions of the couch in the mornings when he leaves and is neatly folded by the time he gets back. Books start to move, too, and Youngjae's laptop.

"How long do you think he'll have to stay?" Youngjae asks Daehyun one night. 

Himchan is already in the bedroom, door closed, lights off. 

They whisper, just in case, even though Himchan can probably hear everything they're saying. 

He's got his cheek pressed against Daehyun's chest, fingers playing with Daehyun's fingers in the moonlight that cuts through the curtains. He sinks into Daehyun's warmth, sighing. He rises and falls with Daehyun's breathing.

Daehyun says, "I don't know. Until I'm fully healed. Until the hunters are taken care of. It doesn't feel like it, but he's actually helping, you know?"

"He could make it easier on us," Youngjae mumbles, wishing for the privacy of his own bedroom. He thinks of how jumpy Daehyun is when he gets home, how much he needs Youngjae to press him into the couch and hold him there. "Or just on you," he amends.

"Himchan doesn't believe in easy," Daehyun immediately replies. "Nothing comes easy."

Youngjae pulls himself up along the other's body, and he presses his face into Daehyun's neck. He wonders if Daehyun likes this as much as when he's doing it himself, if it's the same. 

When he presses his lips to a tender spot by Daehyun's throat, Daehyun shivers.

.

Youngjae has always been easily consumed by things, like knowledge is a splinter under his skin he can't help but pick.

When he was in middle school, he'd watched his older brother build and program a computer, silent beside him, and afterward he'd taught himself the assemblage, the language, until he could do it in his sleep, and by then he was making a little extra pocket money on the side, building for others.

He had a brief descent into bridges, and then cities in the Middle East, and, now, people.

He's never been particularly good with people, in general; his family had been distant even when he lived with them, and his friends - Youngjae can't really figure out what it is about him that they like so much. He isn't particularly funny, or nice. And yet they keep inviting him out for drinks, for parties, for low-key game nights at their apartments.

He took up psychology in school to try and pick it out, and now sociology, and so far he's only managed to determine that people are relatively simple but individuals are complicated. People tend to conform to a set of certain rules, but individuals are outliers. Individuals surprise you.

Like Daehyun.

He feels his interest in sociology draining like sand in an hourglass every moment he spends with him.

The bookstore doesn't get the most traffic in the mornings, and is sparsely populated by college students struggling to finish this afternoon's assignments or people trying to kill time on his shift. NPR plays softly above the shelves, and it smells, as always, like slightly burnt coffee and dusty basements. The store itself is small, its shelves crammed together and leaving little space for a foot path in the back half before opening up into the small cafe and check out area.

Youngjae leans against the counter and pulls his phone out of his pocket, biting at his lips in indecision before casting a quick glance around for his manager and, seeing no one important, typing into his phone's search bar.

_Wolf packs._

The results are varied. He gets scholarly articles and fanatical blog posts and images of preserves and wolf t-shirts. He scrolls down a little more and sees the results beginning to shift - to discussion and speculation, to alpha wolves, to werewolves.

He clicks on one of the werewolf links, curious.

And immediately exits out of the tab.

Jesus, what the hell is  _knotting_  and why are people so interested in stuff like that? He shakes his head to clear the image, fringe falling into his eyes, and sucks on his bottom lip while he scrolls up again.

He clicks on one of the articles, and reads.

It's one of those articles that has links to external articles and pages, and soon enough he's fallen into the black hole of the internet, clicking on link after link and absorbing the information he gleans like a sponge.

When he's through with his shift, he can barely sit through his classes, the words he's read streaming across his brain like ticker-tape, and by the time he gets home he's practically vibrating with the need to know, to ask, to confirm.

He throws his bag into the couch, and Daehyun startles, glaring, because he'd been napping a bit on the cushions, and the bag has hit him on the shins.

Daehyun rises as Youngjae sits on the other side, by Daehyun's legs, Daehyun's mouth open to speak, but Youngjae interrupts, the question he has been thinking about since the first article falling from his lips quickly.

"Are you guys like wolves in captivity or wolves in nature? Or neither?"

"Hello," Daehyun says, a pout forming on his lips. He's wearing one of Youngjae's hoodies with the hood pulled up, and sweatpants that are too big on him. They don't look like his, and Youngjae doesn't even  _own_  a pair of sweatpants, so they must be Himchan's. "How was your day? Mine was great, thanks. Himchan dragged me out to speak with other wolves in the area and basically told everyone we met that I was the biggest trouble he'd ever had the misfortune of coming across."

"Oh," Youngjae exhales. He shifts, bringing Daehyun's legs into his lap. "I'm sorry." He rubs absently along the bone of Daehyun's shin. "What a jerk."

Daehyun barks a laugh. "No, it's okay. He's gone for the night. He needed to - council? I don't even know. Weird alpha shit," Daehyun concludes.

Youngjae teeters, biting his lips, wanting to ask but keeping himself from doing so, and Daehyun must sense something, because he chuckles again and says, "Okay. You look like you're going to explode if you don't get something off your chest."

Given the go-ahead, Youngjae blurts again, "So, captive wolves or wild wolves?"

"What do you think?" Daehyun hedges, smirking. He's propped up on a pillow.

Youngjae shrugs off his jacket and tosses it to the floor, throws his bag on top of it, and stretches himself along the warmth of Daehyun's side. "A little of both," Youngjae guesses.

Daehyun hums. "You're not wrong."

Youngjae feels a little jolt of pleased conceit shoot through his body at the acknowledgment.

"We're a bit like captive wolves, I guess. I mean, when it's just your family - your  _real_  family - there isn't really an alpha. There's just - your parents. But a lot of packs aren't just families anymore, because it's dangerous to be alone. So they've started banding together, but, you know, when you put a lot of wolves together like that, there's going to be a fight for dominance."

Daehyun turns and nuzzles into Youngjae's chest, and then he drags his fingers up Youngjae's sloped side.

"So there's definitely an alpha, usually," Youngjae says, voice shuddering.

He feels Daehyun nod, and he slings an arm around him.

"So you said - you said Himchan was your alpha. Does that mean he's other people's alpha? Why is he your alpha? He's not - I mean, you guys don't  _look_  related."

Daehyun tenses, his fingers now curling into the fabric of Youngjae's shirt. "He turned me," Daehyun says in a low voice.

"Why?" Youngjae presses. "Did you want it?"

"He was hurting," Daehyun explains. "And I was unfortunate."

Youngjae feels the hard ridge of Daehyun's spine under his fingers. There's no give, and suddenly Youngjae wishes he hadn't asked. Daehyun seems very small, now, under his arm, pressed against Youngjae's body. "Okay," he says, pushing the hood from Daehyun's head and breathing into Daehyun's hair. "You don't have to talk about this."

"It's okay," Daehyun whispers, his nose against Youngjae's Adam's apple. "I want you to know, eventually. Just. Ask me other things for now, okay?"

So Youngjae threads his fingers through Daehyun's hair, considering the ceiling, considering everything he's read today, and Daehyun pushes forward and his lips are wet against Youngjae's neck, wet and hot, and then there are teeth, just gently scraping against the skin, like Daehyun can't help himself. Youngjae gasps. "That!"

"What?" Daehyun murmurs, lips close.

"You do that. A lot. And you do it to Himchan, too. But like, not like you do it to me. I read that when wolves lick the throats of other wolves, it's an act. A thing. It's," Youngjae swallows, cheeks warm and flushed.

"What?" Daehyun asks again, voice entirely innocent.

"'A submissive wolf may nuzzle and lick a more dominant wolf's chin or muzzle in greeting,'" Youngjae quotes. "I don't know if it's - if it's just you? Or if it's a wolf thing?"

He can feel Daehyun's lips forming a grin against his pulse point, as Daehyun shifts and nips at the lobe of Youngjae's ear, his tongue sweeping along Youngjae's jaw after as he turns Youngjae's face toward him with gentle but strong fingers.

"I don't know," Daehyun admits, eyes flashing gold as Youngjae stares. "It just feels right." 

He kisses him. Daehyun sweeps lower, and lower, pulling at Youngjae's clothes until they are another pile on the living room floor, and when he takes Youngjae into his mouth, he lets Youngjae curve his hand around the back of his head, lets him set the pace.

.

Youngjae awakens with his hand in Daehyun's mouth, and a strange, prickling feeling in his gut, the sun streaming in now in the late morning and his neck cramping from the strange position they'd fallen asleep in on the couch.

A spoon clinks against a ceramic bowl. 

Youngjae shoots up suddenly, and Himchan is sitting at his small kitchen table, nonchalantly doing an old crossword and eating Youngjae's cereal.

It's nothing he hasn't woken up to before in the past few days, but this time it's different.

This time, Youngjae's naked.

"What are you--" Youngjae sputters, reaching for the sheets that he and Daehyun had kicked off the couch and hauling them back up and over his legs and waist, tucking them around Daehyun as well. "Can you, like, give us even a  _little_  privacy?"

Daehyun shifts next to him, rubbing his calf up and down Youngjae's ankle.

"It's nothing shocking or surprising," Himchan says, crunching on cereal. He glances over at Youngjae and lets his eyes roam up and down Youngjae's chest. "It's not like I'm interested." 

"That's not the point," Youngjae protests, cheeks heating.

Daehyun burrows in the space behind him on the cushions, his upper body wrapping around the curve of his back. His skin is dry and hot where it meets Youngjae's.

He misses mornings when he has a late start and he and Daehyun can lounge, loose-limbed and peaceful, naked in Youngjae's bed, surrounded only by ambient noise and the dust particles reflecting light in his room. It feels like he's always woken up like that, slightly too warm but fully rested, even though he hasn't known Daehyun for more than a few weeks. He glares at Himchan for interrupting that, and the other's eyes flash yellow.

"It's good that you're up," the alpha continues. "We've got plans."

" _You've_  got plans," Youngjae bristles, now completely empathizing with Daehyun's brittle moods when Youngjae comes back in the late afternoons or evenings and Daehyun has presumably spent a large chunk of his day with Himchan. " _My_  plans for today don't include you."

"Well, that's a shame," Himchan returns evenly, his stare piercing. "Because I was only going to ask you to do something that would help the wolf at your back."

Youngjae turns, looking down at Daehyun's sleeping face. The other's hand has slowly inched its way around and into Youngjae's lap, searching for his wrist or fingers.

Daehyun, Youngjae thinks fondly, may be a werewolf, but he sleeps like he's an octopus.

"Somehow I don't think it will be all that helpful to him," he shoots back, lips twisting.

"Aren't you cynical. Are you this catty to him also?" Himchan asks, sneering. "No wonder he latched onto you. He's got a type, you know."

A stone forms in Youngjae's stomach as he hears a soft noise behind him, and then Daehyun's grip around his wrist tightens and he pulls himself up with it, draping himself across Youngjae's back.

"Ignore him," Daehyun suggests, kissing the back of Youngjae's ear.

Himchan snorts. He folds the crossword and stands quickly before putting his bowl and spoon into the sink. "Either way, Daehyun's coming with me. And if you tag along, it could--" He pauses, like the next word is giving him difficulty, paining him. "Help," he grits.

"Where are you going?" Youngjae asks, shoving a little at Daehyun's face behind him because it's distracting him. He hears Daehyun growl but he lets up, laying back down with a rustle. 

Himchan grins again. "Just for lunch. With a friend."

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," Daehyun mutters behind him. He traces his fingertips up and down the small of Youngjae's back. "Okay?"

"Who's the friend?" Youngjae narrows his eyes at Himchan, who is still grinning, sharp and knife-like.

"A long-time ally in the area," Himchan fires back quickly. He says the words like they are a challenge. 

"Is he dangerous?" 

"She," Himchan corrects. "And her desire to cause you harm will probably depend on how you conduct yourself when you meet her and whether or not she's had breakfast."

"I'll go," Youngjae says firmly, relishing the subtle shift in Himchan's grin as he says the words. He straightens his shoulders. "I'm coming," he says again. Behind him, Daehyun flattens the palm of his hand against Youngjae's back, and he leans into it.

For a moment, Himchan looks like he is going to lunge, and Youngjae's pulse jumps at his throat. But then Himchan rolls his shoulders, shakes out some crick in his neck, and just says, "We'll leave in twenty. Get ready," in the same voice Youngjae heard the first time he met him, deep and low and echoing.

.

Hyosung sits with her elbows on the table for four in the sunlit corner, sunglasses pushed up onto the crown of her head, smiling hugely when Himchan steps through the small, dim cafe into its enclosed backyard. 

The ceiling is made of glass, some of it stained bright colors, and the brick walls are covered in amateur paintings and large flags. The space is full of young people sitting at crowded tables, and as they make their way through to Hyosung, Youngjae counts at least seven people who turn their heads to give either Himchan or Daehyun a once over. He wraps the jacket around him tighter, and steps lightly behind Daehyun.

Himchan pulls Hyosung up into a tight hug when they reach her, while Youngjae catches her eyes and holds them with his own. Hers are bright, and twinkling slightly, like she is amused or feeling mischievous, and she doesn't lower her gaze, even when Daehyun inches forward and greets her with a quick, dry kiss to her cheek.

Youngjae doesn't lower his gaze, either. Introductions are quickly made.

She sits again first, then Himchan beside her, on the inside of the table. For a moment he and Daehyun stand until he realizes that Daehyun has pulled his seat out a bit for him. 

He takes the seat, blinking, as Hyosung's smile slides into a cocky grin, and then she turns to Himchan, her chin in the palm of her hand, while Daehyun fits himself into the seat next to Youngjae.

She is wearing a dress, red and fitting close to her curves, under a dark blazer. Her lips are tinted pink. When she pushes forward a bit to whisper into Himchan's ear, Himchan ducks his head, turns his face until the pale skin of his neck is bared to her.

Youngjae leans into Daehyun. "What are they saying?"

Daehyun's eyes flicker amber. "She says you're cute," he whispers, roughly.

"You are," Hyosung interrupts. "I wanted to see what was causing all this fuss, but if it's you...?" Her eyes slide over the line of Youngjae's shoulders, over his neck and to his and Daehyun's joined hands on the table.

Her eyes flash red.

Daehyun gasps and lets go, pulling his hand away and into his lap, like he'd been burned. 

"I guess you've got a face," Hyosung says. She reaches out with one manicured hand and Youngjae leans forward, drawn to her suddenly, and Daehyun gives him a sorry glance, biting at his lips. Hyosung takes Youngjae's face in one hand, turning it this way and that gently, as though appraising a piece of art. She smirks, letting go. "But now it seems you're the reason we've got hunters in our city."

Youngjae sits back, rubbing at his chin with his free hand. His other Daehyun has taken underneath the table, squeezing reassuringly. He is under no delusion that Hyosung doesn't know they are holding each other again, but she doesn't comment.

"Youngjae didn't do anything wrong," Daehyun says in a soft voice. 

Youngjae squeezes his hand back.

"I didn't say  _he_  did anything wrong," Hyosung snaps quickly, eyes flashing again. 

Daehyun drops his gaze, cowed.

"But he did catch your attention. And then? My lovely Himchan was so lenient -- maybe  _too_  lenient -- with you, and you were so enraptured that you didn't even think what it would mean to stay here if you had hunters on your tail." She smiles then, at Daehyun, at Himchan, but even Himchan is averting his eyes. "What's so special about this boy?" 

"My name is Youngjae," he's saying as Daehyun grits, words careful, "Himchan didn't do anything wrong, either, okay? I wasn't being careful. I didn't listen. I told him I needed more time. I met Youngjae and I just - leaving was not an option." 

He doesn't quite meet her eyes, but he's speaking so deliberately, and Hyosung sits back, crossing her arms across her chest and regarding him with a calculating look. Himchan, on the other hand, has a slight flush creeping across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, his bottom jaw hanging slightly in surprise, probably at Daehyun's unsolicited defense of him.

"I tried to leave," Daehyun continues, looking now at Youngjae. His lips curve into a small smile when their eyes meet. "And that didn't work out for either of us."

"Ugh," Hyosung huffs. She blows her fringe from her forehead, but she doesn't look angry. Her eyes are softer, her pink lips pressed together like she's holding another smile behind them. "Interesting," she concedes.

.

Youngjae wonders if he's passed some sort of test. At the end of lunch, Hyosung stands toe-to-toe with him, grants him a kiss on both cheeks when they're standing on the sidewalk outside, and then she does the same to Daehyun.

"I have to talk to my sisters," she tells Himchan, mouth wide in a smile. "See if we want to help you pups."

Then she turns to Daehyun. "It still hurts a little, right?" she asks, head tilting. She taps her fingers up along Daehyun's side, and Daehyun flinches.

He nods.

"It's a shame they got you with that bullet," she says to him, eyebrows dipping. "They've got eyes on you."

She leaves and Himchan spits on the concrete, scowling.

"What did she mean by that?" Youngjae asks them both, watching her retreating figure. "The bullet?"

"It means it was tagged," Himchan says angrily as they all turn to head in the direction of Youngjae's apartment. "I asked her to scan you, earlier, just in case. I had a feeling. It means the hunters are working with a witch. It means they basically put a signature in your blood, and can trace you like a fucking dog."

He growls the last words so low Youngjae can barely hear them, but Daehyun does, and it makes him hunch his shoulders and drag his feet a little along the sidewalk.

Youngjae grabs his hand again, squeezing tight, now learning his tells. "So, what does that mean?" Youngjae repeats, with a bit more force, because Himchan hasn't really told him anything helpful.

"It means they could find me anywhere, as long as they're working with a witch. It means I can't leave until they're taken care of, because I could lead them to more wolves. I'm a threat; I'm dangerous."

Youngjae counts five steps, and then --

"No," Himchan says firmly. He pauses and Daehyun immediately stops, though Youngjae continues a little past. "I mean, yes, that's what it means, but I know what you're thinking, too, and I'm not going to - I'm not going to let anything else happen to you, all right? I'm going to figure something out, with or without Hyosung's help."

Youngjae stares: Himchan has his palm placed on the side of Daehyun's neck, and his eyes are dark and full of warmth and regret, and he knows suddenly that Himchan is sorry for something, something Youngjae is not a part of and never will be.

Daehyun's jaw works, teeth tight against each other. He takes Himchan's hand and lifts it from his neck, and kisses the swell of Himchan's palm. 

Himchan breathes in, shallow and brief, his eyes darting to Youngjae before settling back onto Daehyun, who just says, "All right," and lets him go.

The rest of the way is silent, Himchan walking slightly ahead of them.

.

"What happened between you two?" Youngjae asks, no longer able to hold the question back, when it's just he and Daehyun in the living room, his face tucked into Daehyun's chest and Daehyun's body curled around him.

Daehyun strokes his hair.

"Himchan didn't mean to Bite me. He was out of his mind with grief. For his family," he says quietly. "He left. I dealt with the change alone. I had no idea what was happening, and I -- I was new, and vulnerable. I ended up in Charlotte at -- a really horrible place with some other wolves. 

"By then Himchan had gotten wind of me. It's another weird Alpha thing, you know? You know your own wolves. He came and found me. Got me out and patched me up. It took a while, but I started to trust him. We...got involved, sort of. It ended quickly, but we spent a lot of time together in Charlotte, and then D.C. He asked me to come out to Chicago with him where he's staying, to meet some other wolves, I guess. I told him okay, but I wanted to go on my own. I just needed -- time. And I guess he wanted to prove he trusted me, too. So he said that was okay. And now, I'm here. With you."

Youngjae breathes against Daehyun's chest, struggling to find the right words. It's so much information, more than he's ever gotten from Daehyun before about his life before Youngjae, and he wants to remember every word. "You have a lot of history together," he says, finally.

"I'm worried," Daehyun admits. 

"About what?"

"About what's going to happen. He's dramatic and capable, and has the tendency to act on a whim. He doesn't trust easily. I don't think he  _really_  trusts me, even after all this time."

"How about this?" Youngjae asks, tilting his head up. Daehyun looks down at him, face so close Youngjae could count his eyelashes.

"What?" Daehyun murmurs. 

"I've got you," Youngjae says. "If anything happens, I've got you. You trust me, right?"

Daehyun laughs soundlessly.

"You don't believe I can do it?" Youngjae asks, frowning.

Daehyun kisses his nose, and then his lips, and then his chin. He turns them over until Youngjae is on his back and he can slide down his body, and he presses feather-light kisses along the way to his bellybutton until Youngjae is giggling and shivering and breathless. 

He palms Youngjae underneath the covers, and Youngjae arches into the touch.

"We'll look out for each other, okay?" he breathes against Youngjae's stomach, making the muscles jump there, his tongue swiping at the lines, his teeth scraping against the skin. 

"Yeah," Youngjae promises.

.

They don't hear back from Hyosung the next day.

It's been a week since Himchan's arrival and Youngjae is starting to wonder what's taking the hunters so long. Did Himchan's appearance in the city scare them off? Were they taking care of something else? Or, maybe they'd just forgotten?

But he remembers the look in Yongguk's eyes when he'd had Youngjae pressed up against the brick wall of the alley, knife against throat. Whatever it is that the pair are doing now, Yongguk definitely has not forgotten.

Himchan is a rubberband stretched to the point just before snapping, and Daehyun fares no better, feeling restless and trapped, only able to leave the apartment now when Himchan is with him.

Youngjae reads. And then he pummels Daehyun with questions, over breakfast, when they're trying to watch television, when he's struck with curiosity as he's typing responses for one of his classes.

He learns that the full moon is not a curse, but that their senses heighten with it, and maybe that's where the legends come from - unstable, new wolves experiencing their first moon and the barrage of stimulation with it, the change that rips through them suddenly because of the onslaught. He learns that the constant touching, the licking, the breathing in of Youngjae's skin is the wolf leaving a trace of himself on Youngjae, his scent. He learns that Daehyun liking to bury his nose in Youngjae's armpit is totally just a Daehyun thing.

He knows that Himchan and Daehyun are fighting about something - or at least disagreeing. Can feel it in the way Daehyun holds himself against Youngjae at night, like an apology. His gut tells him that they're fighting about  _Youngjae_ , and he feels certain that it's about the constant sneers Himchan throws his way, the way his eyes roll whenever Youngjae says anything.

Himchan doesn't need to like him, but it doesn't seem like he's even  _trying_.

"It's not that he doesn't like you," Daehyun tells him in the morning, voice rough and warm. "He just doesn't trust you."

"That makes me feel a lot better," Youngjae relies sardonically.

They are side by side in Youngjae's small kitchen. Daehyun is attempting to make coffee without burning down the apartment and Youngjae is making scrambled eggs and toast. He spoons a bit of the eggs from the pan for Daehyun to try, and he takes the bite, smacking his lips after.

"I've been talking to him," Daehyun says. "I don't like that he doesn't trust you, either."

"Fine."

He switches off the burner as Daehyun takes two mugs out from the cabinet above them.

"Good?" Youngjae asks, referring to the eggs.

Daehyun nods.

.

There's something very satisfying about restocking shelves, finding the impossible space where a book should live and wedging it in between two others.

Youngjae takes his time with it and listens to music through his headphones meanwhile. He moves slowly through the stacks with an armful because the cart won't fit in the narrow space, and bobs his head sometimes to a particularly good beat.

There's the Fiction section and then Romance and then Classics, then the Biographies and World Fiction and Social Sciences. He picks up a dog training manual from the cart and laughs, low and private, and can't help but flip through it quickly as he's walking to the appropriate aisle.

The manual covers house training and meals, conditioning responses and how and when to use treats to reinforce behavior. He lingers a bit with the book in hand in front of its shelf, and reads a paragraph on asserting dominance as an owner.

Then he closes it, ears heating, because he's never thought about his relationship with Daehyun like that, and is fairly certain he never wants to.

A muffled sound tries to reach him through his headphones.

Youngjae slides them off to circle his neck and turns, and then he nearly flings himself into the shelf behind him, heart leaping to his throat, because Yongguk is standing before him, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans and rocking on his heels, his large smile belying what violence Youngjae knows is underneath.

"I said," Yongguk picks up like they're in the middle of a conversation, "Having trouble with your pet?"

"What are you doing here?" Youngjae hisses, eyes darting to the end of the aisle where it opens into the cafe. Yongguk is standing so close to him that if he reached out his arms, he could cage Youngjae in.

Yongguk rolls his eyes. "You think I'm going to try something here? In your place of  _business_?"

"I don't know," Youngjae says, gulping. "My only interaction with you has been when you held a knife to my neck and tried to kill my boyfriend."

"So he's your boyfriend, then?" Yongguk raises an eyebrow. "How upsetting."

"Get lost," Youngjae says, nostrils flaring.

Yongguk takes a step back, knocking into the next shelf, raising his hands in a show of peace. "Hey, I just came by to check on you. Don't think we forgot about the wolf. We know you've got another one. Are you collecting strays? What, you get up to unmentionable things with that one, too?" He smirks. It's hateful.

Youngjae doesn't care that he's working, or that it's broad daylight, or that Yongguk could probably kill him in twenty different ways. He feels anger course through him in a way he's never experienced before, on his own behalf, on Daehyun's, even on  _Himchan's_ , and he raises his hand and slaps Yongguk right across the cheek, hand stinging after.

The sound rings out, and then the sudden silence suffocates.

Yongguk starts chuckling, low and grave. His cheek is bright red where Youngjae hit him. "You really put a lot into that, didn't you? Listen, I really just wanted to tell you--" He steps forward again suddenly, until they are so close the tips of their noses brush against each other, Youngjae breathing hard and shallow. "That wolf is  _mine_."

Yongguk thumps his hand onto Youngjae's chest, and there's something hard in his palm when he strikes him. His reflexes make Youngjae move to catch the thing when Yongguk pulls away, and it rattles, metal against metal, as it settles in Youngjae's hold.

Yongguk winks. "A souvenir," he whispers, like it's a shared secret. "I thought I'd return it." His fingers brush across Youngjae's cheek as he turns away, striding out of the bookstore, stretching both arms over his head when he gets outside.

His blood is thrumming in his ears, and he feels stiff and fractured all at once, like if he tried to take a step right now he'd collapse onto the ground in a heap of broken pieces. He breathes, trying to even it out, willing his pulse to return to normal, and looks down into his hand.

He bites his tongue to keep from gasping out loud.

It's a pair of silver dog tags, rust-colored stains mottling the metal, connected by a keyring. The first tag has a series of tally marks. Youngjae counts sixteen. The second has an image of a skull pressed into it and a set of letters and numbers, like an ID:  _JDH0628._

.

The tags are iron weights in the pocket of his jacket on his way home. He considered hiding them, somewhere deep inside his backpack, or just leaving them underneath the counter at the store. His curiosity made him keep them, however morbid.

He'd splashed water on his face before leaving work, hoping to wipe away any trace of Yongguk's fingers on his skin, but he still paused outside the door to his own apartment, breathing purposefully, mind turning over and over how he could explain to Daehyun (and Himchan) what had happened without the two freaking out, or something. 

He'll tell Daehyun first, he decides. And Daehyun can decide how they tell Himchan.

He slides his key into place, and turns the lock.

Daehyun is pacing in front of the television.

By the time Youngjae steps out of his shoes and slips his bag from his shoulders onto the floor, Daehyun is in front of him, reaching for him, cupping his face in his hands. His eyes are huge and flashing gold. 

"What's wrong?" Youngjae asks him, worried about the way Daehyun is rocking on his feet, antsy or anxious, the way his fingers are shaking around Youngjae's face.

The door closes behind them. 

Daehyun dips in, nosing at Youngjae's neck, inhaling. "I can smell him on you," he says. He whimpers. He straightens and kisses Youngjae's cheek. "Here." Buries his face in Youngjae's chest, pulling him in, pulling them both further into the apartment. "And here."

Youngjae follows as Daehyun guides him to the couch, as he sits him down into the cushions and straddles him, hands fisting into Youngjae's jacket.

"He came to the bookstore," Youngjae admits, unsure how to respond to Daehyun's behavior, but figuring that lying will not help it.

Daehyun growls. "Did he hurt you."

"No," Youngjae says immediately. "No, he didn't."

Daehyun leans down again, fingers scratching at Youngjae's chest as he breathes there. He whimpers again. "I need to--" he starts, stopping himself suddenly, letting out a frustrated groan.

"What? What do you need to do?"

"You smell like him," Daehyun whispers. "I want to change that. Can I?"

Youngjae nods.

Daehyun wrestles him out of his jacket and it lands on the arm of the couch. He tugs at the bottom hem of Youngjae's sweater and pulls that up and over him, and then his undershirt, too, making Youngjae's hair fluff up like a cloud. In the end he is bare-chested while Daehyun is soft in Youngjae's hoodie and Himchan's sweatpants, and then Daehyun plants a scalding kiss on top of Youngjae's breastplate.

His tongue darts out to lick at the skin, as Youngjae feels all the blood rushing from his brain elsewhere. One of his hands rests on the back of Daehyun's head, and he presses him closer.

Daehyun sighs, tongue swirling patterns over Youngjae's skin, his lips hot and wet and Youngjae's back arches suddenly, after Daehyun shifts over and flicks his tongue over a peaked nipple.

"He didn't touch me there," Youngjae gasps.

"I know," Daehyun says. He draws himself up and Youngjae opens his eyes, not realizing he had even closed them in the first place. His skin tingles where Daehyun has left traces of himself. Daehyun pulls the hoodie off. He's not wearing anything underneath. "I wanted to do that. Is this okay?"

"Oh my god, yes."

They kiss. It seems so long since they've kissed like this, panting into each other's mouths, nipping and biting. Daehyun's fingernails sharpen enough to leave raised lines across Youngjae's skin when he drags them up his torso, down his chest. He breaks away from the kiss to leave little bites down Youngjae's jaw, to kiss him in that spot he so likes behind Youngjae's ear and to swipe his tongue, rough and hot, over Youngjae's throat.

Youngjae puts his hands above Daehyun's hips, kneading into the hard muscle there, leaning his head back when Daehyun grinds into him and giving him better access to his throat. His hands slip under the elastic waistband of the sweatpants. He grips the meat of Daehyun's ass and squeezes, encouraged by another groan, so his hands travel again and he rubs his index finger, dry and light, over Daehyun's hole. 

Daehyun freezes with a high-pitched gasp.

Youngjae stops, too, bringing his hands up to rest on Daehyun's hips again, but the other buries his face into the juncture of Youngjae's neck and shoulder, embarrassed.

"Should we stop?" Youngjae asks him, careful.

"No," Daehyun responds, voice muffled.

"Should I get the lube?" Youngjae asks him next.

The pause is longer this time. Daehyun squirms in Youngjae's lap, his breath dampening Youngjae's neck. "Yes," he says, finally.

.

He'd been very careful and patient and attentive and kind but Daehyun just hadn't been ready, and so he'd gotten up and put the towel they used in the hamper and capped the lube and put it away. He cleaned them both a bit and pulled on some underwear before tucking himself around Daehyun and bringing the covers up, sweat drying on their skin. 

Daehyun is still breathing hard when he drapes an arm over his side, his skin flushed and his cheeks red. "Sorry," Daehyun mutters.

Youngjae holds him. They fit together like yin and yang, Youngjae on the inside of the couch and Daehyun on the outside. "Hey," he says. "It's okay. We've got time. It's not a problem, at all." He rubs circles into Daehyun's back and Daehyun relaxes, bones seeming to soften and reshape themselves to press himself even closer.

"It's not that I didn't want to," Daehyun says.

"I know."

Youngjae reaches up to shove his jacket from the arm of the couch in order to stack some pillows there, and his jacket falls to the floor with a jingle.

Daehyun says, "Aren't you at least going to hang that?" and turns to pull himself up to grab Youngjae's jacket, lifting it from the floor.

The tags fall from its pocket.

Daehyun scoops them up with one hand.

And then he sits up, covers falling to his waist, staring.

"Daehyun?" Youngjae sits up, too. He puts a hand on the other's shoulder but lets it fall when it is shrugged off. 

"Did he give these to you?"

Youngjae presses his lips together, exhaling. "Yeah."

"Oh," is all Daehyun says.

Youngjae breathes, watching Daehyun's back, the stiffness of his shoulders. He doesn't want to move, suddenly knowing that if he does, Daehyun will bolt.

Then, he bolts anyway.

Daehyun stands and the tags fall from his hands and he strides into the bathroom and closes the door, all before Youngjae can process what's happening, and by the time Youngjae pulls his mind together enough to stand and walk after him, the bathroom door is locked.

He knocks.

"I need a minute," Daehyun's voice answers him. He sounds frightened, and like he's speaking from somewhere far away. "Please."

"I'm right here, okay?" Youngjae says, hoping his sincerity will also pass through the door. "I'm right here. I'm sorry. I should have told you that happened. I didn't think--I didn't want it to make you worried."

"Himchan will be back soon," Daehyun says, seemingly apropos to nothing. "Right?"

"I think so," Youngjae hedges. He really has no idea. "I'm sure he'll be back soon."

Daehyun doesn't answer. And then there's the sound of retching into the toilet, and Daehyun's following whimper.

Youngjae knocks again. "Hey. Um. Can you unlock the door? I'm getting worried now. What can I do to help?"

"I just. Need a minute," Daehyun repeats, words fragmented, like he's breathing hard.

Youngjae rattles the doorknob. 

Daehyun whines from inside. "Please don't do that," he begs.

"Okay. Okay." He lets go. Steps back. The tags are still on the living room floor. He walks over and picks them up, and then he goes into the kitchen and finds a ziplock bag in one of his drawers, and puts them inside, hoping at least that will dull the smell he imagines must be coming from them.

Then, he goes back to the bathroom door. "I'm just going to sit down," he says. "Right here."

He sits against the wall, the cold floor gradually warming underneath him. 

Daehyun retches again and Youngjae winces. The toilet flushes.

He waits and waits until his legs have fallen asleep, until finally, there is a series of sharp knocks on the front door.

He lets Himchan in. 

Himchan takes one look at Youngjae, takes one deep inhale, and then he's growling and his eyes are gold, his teeth deadly points. He pushes past Youngjae and heads to the bathroom door, and doesn't bother with knocking. He says, in that low, echoing voice, "Let me in."

The lock clicks. 

Himchan grips the doorknob so tightly Youngjae's afraid he'll leave dents, but then he swings the door open and steps in, Youngjae following close but unsure whether he's allowed beyond the barrier of the threshold. He hovers, outside of the bathroom, and watches Himchan sink to his knees and cradle Daehyun to his chest, watches Daehyun fold himself into Himchan's warmth.

"The fucker," Himchan rumbles. " _He's_  the monster."

He stands and Daehyun stands with him, clinging close, his nose pressed against Himchan's collarbone.

"What happened?" Himchan demands, looking at Youngjae.

"Yongguk," Youngjae answers automatically, the words he wants to say piling up quickly on his tongue. "He came to the bookstore where I work. He said he knew about you."

Himchan narrows his eyes. "Did he hurt you?"

The question startles Youngjae, even as he realizes Himchan is scanning his body - for injuries or blemishes. "No." He shakes his head. "I may have slapped him, though," he continues, biting at his bottom lip.

The older man raises one thin eyebrow. "Good."

Youngjae continues to chew on his bottom lip. He exhales and explains, chest tight, "He gave me a pair of dog tags, too," watching Himchan's body stiffen at the words. "What are those tags?"

Himchan looks down at the boy cradled in his arms. His mouth twists into a grim line. "Have you ever been to a dog fight?" he asks Youngjae.

Youngjae shakes his head, the images already filling his mind. Snarling, rabid dogs with snapping jaws and electric collars or heavy chains. He swallows, dreading what Himchan is about to say.

"Well," Himchan tells him. "There are dog-fighting rings. And then there are the ones for weres."

Suddenly Youngjae imagines Daehyun, snarling and rabid, his eyes dull gold and a chain around his neck.

"It's not - " Himchan starts, frowning. "He got caught. I let him get caught."

Daehyun nuzzles closer at those words. He's still shaking.

Himchan's expression slips into one of gentleness. He asks softly, "Do you want to rest for a bit?"

There's no answer that Youngjae can discern, but Himchan nods and says to Youngjae, "In my bag in your room. Side pocket. There are. Some pills." He glares, as though daring Youngjae to comment.

"I'll get them," Youngjae offers.

He returns with them, and steps into the bathroom to hand the little baggie of pills to Himchan. 

He takes it, holds the baggie up to his eyes, and opens it, taking out a single pill. Himchan nudges Daehyun and Daehyun looks up, finally, and his eyes really are dull gold, and he opens his mouth and Himchan drops the pill onto his tongue.

Daehyun swallows.

Himchan says, "It helps him sleep. If it gets bad."

Youngjae could care less about the pills. He just wants to know that Daehyun will eventually be okay. 

It takes a bit of coaxing since Daehyun doesn't seem too keen on leaving the small space of the bathroom, but then Youngjae comments that he's not going to let Daehyun fall asleep in his shower because he'll wake up super uncomfortable and blaming him, and Daehyun gives him a tiny smile and moves.

They go into Youngjae's bedroom.

It doesn't even feel like his anymore, not really. Himchan is neat and almost spartan in materials, but the air of the room has changed. Daehyun crawls easily into Youngjae's bed, and slips under the covers, eyes already drooping.

"It's okay in here?" Himchan asks him, sitting on the edge of the mattress. He beckons Youngjae over, too, surprising him again.

"It smells like you," Daehyun slurs, blinking. "And Youngjae. It's really nice."

Daehyun reaches for Himchan's wrist but then Himchan is standing, and sitting Youngjae on the mattress in his place. Daehyun grabs Youngjae's wrist instead. His hold is loose.

Youngjae looks up at Himchan, confused.

"I have to go take care of something," Himchan says. "You take care of him."

"Where are you going," Youngjae whispers, because he's worried about the blankness behind Himchan's eyes, the deep nothing of his voice.

"I'm sick of this hunter's bullshit," he growls.

He leans down to brush Daehyun's hair away from his forehead, and Daehyun moves into the touch, eyes closed, breathing deepening. Himchan kisses him there. He stands and, with more hesitation than Youngjae has ever seen from him before, lays a hand on Youngjae's shoulder.

"I'll be back in a few hours," Himchan promises.

He leaves. 

Daehyun drags Youngjae down with him in sleep, but Youngjae cannot join him.

.

A few hours means morning is just taking over the inky blackness of night when Himchan comes through the front door again, the door slamming against the wall and two sets of footfalls following.

Youngjae startles awake, but Daehyun is still lost in medicated sleep.

He slowly extricates himself from Daehyun's hold, from the way his body has tried to assimilate with Youngjae's in the middle of the night, and slides out of bed.

There's growling coming from the living room, grunting and the sounds of struggle. Youngjae pauses before opening the door. He pulls on a t-shirt he finds near Himchan's bag on the floor, just in case. 

"Sit  _down_ ," comes Himchan's voice on the other side. The voice he uses on Daehyun sometimes when Daehyun is being cheeky or annoying.

Youngjae opens the door.

There's a boy sitting on his couch, long-limbed and pale and familiar. His eyes are hard and cut through Youngjae like a knife when they meet his, and the boy smirks with his eyebrows, because there's silver tape over his mouth. His hands are behind his back, presumably tied.

"What the fuck," Youngjae whispers.

"Good morning, Youngjae," Himchan says smoothly. He's in the kitchen, rooting around in the drawers for something.

"What the fuck," Youngjae repeats, louder this time. "What is this?"

"This is Yongguk's partner Junhong," Himchan explains. "And he's going to be the newest member of my pack."

.

**Author's Note:**

> One day I will write fluff with absolutely no trauma/angst, but today is not that day.
> 
> tumblr: [personal](http://paperkrane.tumblr.com) || [writing](http://andnowforyaya.tumblr.com)


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